Into The Winter
by MsLuce
Summary: Snowing/Charming Family Oneshots "It's strange," Snow whispered, and Charming's eyes drifted back to hers. "How it's a tradition to kiss a person if you are both under mistletoe, I mean, seeing as it's a poisonous plant." Snowing
1. Nightmare

_Prompt: Henry has a nightmare and Snow comforts him. Snow/Henry fluff. (set after 2x09)_

* * *

><p>1. Nightmare<p>

Snow jumped, her emerald green eyes bursting open. Her bedroom was dark, the only light coming from the distant glow from what she could only determine was the kitchen. She sat up slowly, trying carefully not to wake up her husband, who's soft snores were still drifting around her make-shift room. She squinted into the darkness as she heard the small 'bop' of the kettle, and the opening of the fridge, and after a moment or two, she knew who was in the kitchen; Henry. She could tell by the soft pitter-patter of footprints that only belonged to her Grandson, the sound much too soft for her grown-up daughter, who was the only other person it could have been. Emma probably would have made a loud crash by that time, but Henry, sweet Henry, was trained in the art of sneaking around; he probably got that from her.

Snow gently peeled Charming's arm from around her, slipping out of his embrace. For a moment or two, she thought he had woken up, due to the tiny moan that escaped his lips, but soon it was made clear that he was still asleep, and his snores continued. She couldn't help but place a delicate kiss on his cheek, before she pulled on her slippers, and carefully slipped out of the curtains.

Just as she had guessed, Henry was leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting patiently as the water boiled in the kettle; he hadn't noticed her, his eyes watching the kettle intently, waiting. Judging by the milk, chocolate powder and cinammon, Henry was making himself a hot chocolate.

"You alright?" Snow whispered, as she tiptoed towards him, aware of the two sleeping beauty's in the apartment (neither one being Aurora).

Henry turned quickly, startled, his eyes widening at the look of her.

"I-I didn't mean to wake you up, sorry," he said to her quietly, a few moments later. She had reached him by then, and was leaning against the counter beside him. "I thought I was being quiet enough."

Snow chuckled slighty. "You were perfectly quiet," she told him, giving him a nod. "But you're forgetting that I lived in hiding for a while back in the Enchanted Forest; I'm _always _alert."

Henry grinned at that, just like he always did whenever anyone made a refernce to their lives before the curse; she knew it meant a lot to him that he had been right about the whole thing. Not that he had ever doubted himself, but she understood how with everyone doubting him that it was slightly difficult for him.

"Fair enough," he replied. "I can live with that."

Snow smiled at him, before turning around and looking at the ingredients for hot chocolate on the counter. "So, do I have to question you on your late night snacks or are you going to tell me?"

Henry raised an eyebrow. "A hot chocolate is hardly a snack, I'm not _eating _it."

This time it was Snow who raised an eyebrow.

Henry sighed, a sigh that had half a yawn entwined in it, which made it sound awfully strange, but neither one of them commented on it. Instead, Snow reached over and got herself out a mug, and then set to work on making them both hot chocolates; the water had finished boiling. She added a dash of cinnamon for each of them, a little more for Henry (he couldn't get enough of the stuff), before she carried both mugs over to the couch, setting them down on the table in front of it.

She dropped down onto the couch, and Henry sat down beside her, biting his lip. She didn't say anything else, not wanting to push him into telling her anything (she knew that wasn't the answer), but instead she leaned over and took a sip of the sweet flavoured drink and waited for him to start. Eventually, he opened his mouth and spoke.

"I had a nightmare."

The words came out quick and soft, the sound of his voice barely making it's way to Snow's ear.

"A nightmare?" She asked, a frown growing on her face. "What was it?- the burning roo-"

"No," Henry interrupted quickly. He took a sip of his own drink. "It was.. something different. That's what made it worse. I'm used to the burning room, that doesn't.. bother me as much."

His face had paled slightly, and she reached over and took his small hand in her own. "What happened?"

Henry swallowed, shutting his eyes for a moment or two, before opening them and turning to look at her. "It was about you. And my Mom. Emma, I mean."

Snow's gaze softened. She gently stroked the back of his hand with the pad of her thumb.

"You.. You died. You tried to come through the portal, and Rumpelstilskin and my Mom, Regina, they.. they _stopped_ you from coming back, and you both died, and it was, it was _horrible."_

He closed his eyes, and Snow pulled him into her, wrapping her arms around him. His head fell to her chest, and she felt a few tears leak onto her pajama top.

"Gramps, he, he didn't wake up. He couldn't wake up. My Mom, my Gramps, and you Grams, you were all gone, I had lost all of you. I had just found you, and then you were gone, snatched away from me, and it was evil, twisted."

His voice was muffled against her top, his eyes still closed. Her hand was gently stroking his hair, and she found herself rocking backwards and forwards with him.

"We're all here Henry," she murmured, kissing the top of his head. "Your Mom, she didn't die, nor did I, nor did your Grandfather. You can't get rid of us that easily."

She felt Henry's laugh against her chest, and he pulled away; his face was slightly tear-stained, and she wiped away the remainder of his tears with her finger. He settled back into her arms, his head against her chest once more, and she tightened her hold on him.

"Henry, do you want to know why we are all still alive?"

"Why?" He asked quietly, his eyes shifting up to her face.

"Because we have hope," she replied, smiling slightly. "Hope is the only thing stronger than fear, believing in something, having faith that life will work out for the best, that we will _survive,_ it's the only magic we need. You had faith that we would find a way back, and look, we _did._"

"But sometimes, the good guys die," Henry told her honestly. "Graham, Daniel.. They died, and that's what I'm scared of; I don't want to lose you."

"You can't lose me," Snow whispered, a tear somehow finding it's way down her cheek. "I am always going to be with you, no matter what."

"You can't promise that," Henry said quietly. "You can't promise me that you're always going to be with me."

"I beg to differ."

"How?" Henry asked, frowning slightly. "How?"

"Because, even if you lose me, I'm going to stay with you," Snow said to him. "For I will always be in here." She placed her hand against his beating heart, and a look of relization struck upon his face.

"If you love someone, they will always be in here," she said. "You can't lose that."

"I love you, Grams," he whispered, and he nestled closer to her.

"I love you too," Snow replied, kissing his head. "Now come on, take your hot chocolate up, and go to sleep."

"Thanks," Henry said. He gave her one last quick squeeze, before he stood up, and picked up his mug of hot chocolate. She watched him as he walked quietly towards the stairs, and watched him as he walked up. He got to the top step and paused, twisting around. "Night Grams."

"Night Henry," she whispered.

He disappeared, and she sighed before standing up herself. She picked up her mug of hot chocolate, and carried it over to the sink, leaning against the counter as she finished it. She drank the lost drop, the sweet liquid warm on her lips, before placing the mug in the sink.

Slowly, she walked over to the lamp and flicked it off, before tiptoeing towards her room. When she was a few inches away from the curtains, they opened revealing Charming, a sigh escaping his lips as her saw her.

"Hey," he murmured, pulling her into his arms; her head fell against his bare chest. "Where'd you go? You had me worried."

"Henry had a nightmare," she replied, closing her eyes, nestling closer to him. "I just.. talked to him for a few minutes."

"Burning room?" Charming asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, it was something different," she mumbled, yawning slighty. "I think he's alright now."

"Good," Charming said, kissing her hair. "He loves you."

"Mmph," she replied, falling half asleep on her husband. Charming chucked, pulling her into his arms, carrying her through the curtains and towards their bed bridal style, her head resting comfortably against his neck.

He dropped her on their bed, pulling her slippers off, and wrapping her up in blankets, before climbing in, and nuzzling close to her.

* * *

><p><em>Hi. This is going to be a multi-chap story with short oneshotsdrabbles of Snowing and the Charming Family. I am going to be writing oneshots/drabbles based on prompts, so please, feel free to leave any! They can be one word, a sentence, a short summary, a character, etc. This first prompt was offered up by my friend, so yay (: _


	2. Mistletoe

_Prompt: Snow/Charmig cuteness (with a mistletoe?)_

* * *

><p><span>Mistletoe<span>

Charming had always loved Christmas. It was by far one of his most favourite holidays, his childhood alight with happy memories of his Father swinging him around the room in the morning, his Mother laughing happily as she prepared them a breakfast of warm bread and fine cheese, their savings always being spent on making sure that they ate well, atleast on that day. When he was younger, he never got many presents; the most he had ever recieved were three, one from his Mother, one from his Father, and one from his old horse (he knew that his parents were behind that aswell). Usually, he recieved hand-knitted scarfs and hats, or a box of sweet gingerbread biscuits that his Mother had made, or a nice pair of woollen socks, the wool coming from one of his sheep. After his Father had passed away when was still quite young, things went slightly downhill, but no matter what, his Mother still made an effort at Christmas. They still had fun, singing old songs with a few of the nearest neighbours, exchanging gifts at the break of dawn, his Mother's laugh still echoing around the room. Christmas had always been a time where he had been happy no matter what, a time for family, a time for love. And he had never thought that his Christmas would change. He had assumed that once he was older, he would meet her, the one girl he was destined to marry, and she would come a part of his happy holiday; he had imagined dancing with her clumsily around his Mother's old house, singing loudly, looks of smiles etched on each of their faces.

But of course, things didn't follow his plan. King George had made sure of that.

It was Christmas time, but Christmas wasn't being spent at home with his beloved Mother. Instead of waking up happy in his old, lumpy mattress on Christmas morning, he woke up in a soft, large, bed, thouroughly miserable. It was Christmas, a time of happiness, a time he loved ever so much, yet he was spending it with a man he was instructed to call Father, a woman he was expected to fall in love with, and a large group of people he didn't know by name.

He climbed out of bed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. There was going to be a special Christmas ball that night, one he was not looking forward to. He didn't know how to dance, the clumsy 'go with it' dancing that he did in Mother's house not going to be acceptable in a ball. He had told George countless times, yet of course, George brushed it off with a wave of the hand, not caring about his 'son's feelings.

Charming walked towards the window, his eyes drawn to the soft snowflakes that were falling to the ground which was covered in new fallen snow. _Snow. _

Of course, he hadn't forgotten about his encounter with beautiful Snow White, the theif, the girl who had stolen his ring then helped him get it back. It had been a while, a month at the most, since he had seen her, with her ebony curls and emerald green eyes.

He frowned as he stared out the window. If it was snowing, there was no doubt that it must be cold. Maybe even freezing. He folded his arms, wondering if she was going to be warm enough. He wasn't sure why he was worrying about her, but he didn't think anyone deserved to be out in the cold, snowy weather, freezing, especially not on Christmas day. Some part of him was determind to make sure that she was okay, warm at least, and that was the part of him that made him venture out into the woods to find her.

He had picked up a bag, and stuffed it with warm bread and cheese, along with a thick, wool cloak, to give to her if she seemed cold. If he found her. He hoped he would find her. It was still fairly early in the morning as he made his way out of the castle and through the kingdom, few people out and about, so no one questioned where he was off to. The wind was cold, snow flakes falling into his blond hair, but he kept walking, and eventually entered the forest.

It looked beautiful, Charming thought, as he walked through the tall trees, the ground covered with fresh snow. He had always been one for nature, loving the natural world, the weather. The sun shone through the trees, making the snow sparkle due to the light, and he shivered slightly from the cold, but kept walking on, desperate to find Snow White.

He wasn't sure how far he had been walking, but his legs were beginning to feel tired, and his heart was beginning to sink. He had found her once, but whether he was going to be able to find her again was another story. He had told her that he would _always _find her, but he was beginning to question his theory.

He kept walking, come across a group of large fruit trees, and berry bushes. He looked at the bushes, and noticed that half of the berries on one side of a bush had been picked clean. It didn't look like an animal had picked them, as it looked as if they had been picked elegantly, something that only could have been done by a human.

"Snow," he murmured.

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you again, _Charming,_" a voice said from behind him, and he jumped, twisting round. She stood a few feet away, wearing a cloak, but not a very thick one at that, and he was sure he could see her shivering slightly beneah it, despite her attemps to try and hide it from him. Her black hair was specked with white from the falling snow, her eyelashes long and elegant. Her eyes looked as if they were filled with something, maybe joy, but he couldn't tell.

"I told you I'd find you," Charming said, stepping towards her.

"Hmm, if I remember correctly, you said if I ever need anything you'd find me," Snow replied casually, raising an eyebrow. "So, what is it that I need?"

"Warmth," he responded with a light shrug of his shoulders. "Food. It's cold out, I don't want you to freeze."

Her eyes softened slightly, but she folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not going to _freeze,_ I'm warm enough in this. And as for food, I see you noticed that I picked half of the berry bush clean."

Charming chuckled at her stubborness, knowing she was infact cold but also that she was refusing to admit it to him, refusing to admit that she may need something warm. He swang his bag off of his shoulder, and started rumaging through it; he grasped the cloak he had brought for her, pulling it out. "You'd be warmer in this, trust me, it's good at keeping heat in."

She kept her eyes fixed on him. "You brought me a cloak?"

"It's winter, you need something warm," he told her, handing it to her; she took it hestitantly. "Just think of it as a Christmas present."

A light blush rose in Snow's cheeks. She bit her lip, running her hand over the soft wool, before sighing, and slipping it on; immediately, he noticed her look of pleasure as the warmth settled into her skin.

"Thank you," she breathed, wrapping herself into the cloak. "You didn't have to do this, but thank you."

"My pleasure," he replied, smiling at her. "Do you fancy some bread and cheese as well?"

Her head jerked up, her mouth opening in shock. _"Cheese?" _She asked, as if she couldn't believe it. "Really? I haven't had cheese in.." she trailed off.

"Of course," Charming said, looking through his bag again; his hands found the small loaf of bread and fresh cheese, and he pulled it out, handing it to her.

She took it slowly, mumbling a word of thanks, before leaning against one of the fruit trees. Catiously, he walked over, standing beside her, and watched as she nibbled on the bread and cheese, clearly trying to stop herself from eating it all in a matter of seconds. After she had eaten a small amount of it, she wrapped it back up, and stuffed it into her pockets.

"Thank you again," she whispered, lifting her head and meeting his gaze. "You didn't have to.."

"I wanted too," he murmured, taking her hand in his own subconciously.

"But I have nothing to give you," she told him, blushing. "I have nothing."

"I don't want anything in return," he said honestly. "Making sure you're okay is a great gift as it is."

"Really?" She asked him, her eyes searching his own.

"Really."

She leant her head back against the tree, and he moved in closer to her, leaning against the tree too. They were close, her hand still in his, and his thumb had subconciously started rubbing soft circles on the back of her hand.

"What is happening that is so dull that you are spending Christmas morning in the woods?" Snow asked him, teasing him slightly.

"Nothing really. I have a Christmas ball to attend to this evening," he replied, casually shrugging his shoulders. "Nothing important."

She raised her head, and looked at him with a weird look on her face. "You don't sound too pleased."

He chuckled, running his free hand through his hair. "I can't dance."

Snow raised an eyebrow in question. "You're a prince, every prince learns to dance from a very young age, I should know, for as a princess I learnt to dance at the young age of four."

"I, I have just never got the hang of it," he improvised, hoping she ignored the way his cheeks had gone red from his lie. Luckily, she did.

Her eyes drifted up to the sky, her head titled up. For a moment, she simply stared at something, her eyes narrowing slightly, her lips parting, but before he could look up, and see what on earth had captured her gaze, her eyes had fallen back to his.

"This.. This is a fruit tree, right? Just.. without the fruit part," she asked him, seemingly wanting to clarify something with him.

"Yeah," Charming replied. "Apple I think, you've just got to wait until spring, and fresh red apples will grow. You can tell it's an apple tree by the leaves, by the shade of brown the trunk is.."

Snow nodded, biting her lip. "Do you.. do you know what plant usually grows on fruit trees? It's a, erm, poisonous plant."

"No, I do-" His voice faltered as he glanced up, noticing the small sprig of mistletoe hanging on the branch above them. His grip on her hand tightened suddenly, and he felt his cheeks burn red. He had seen his parents kiss under the mistletoe when he was younger, hearing them say how it was a tradition, and if you didn't kiss, it would mean you would have bad luck. He swallowed uneasily.

"It's strange," Snow whispered, and Charming's eyes drifted back to hers. "How it's a tradition to kiss a person if you are both under mistletoe, I mean, seeing as it's a poisonous plant."

"Maybe that's why you are supposed to kiss," Charming said. "To show that even something horrible can cause something good."

"Mmmh," Snow responded, her eyes glancing up at the mistletoe again. "Maybe."

When she looked back at him, Charming felt something stir in his chest. A powerful emotion, the same thing he had felt when she tried his Mothers ring on. She stared at him, her eyes inviting him in, and catiously he leant forward, his head moving closer to hers. He heard her breath hitch, and watched as her eyes flickered shut, before he placed his lips gently against her own. He kissed her softly, carefully, slightly scared at the new boundary they had crossed. However, Snow kissed him back, and pulled her hand out of his so she could place it against his neck. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer to him, and he was sure he heard a soft moan escape her lips. Her lips tasted of berries and cheese, a weird but delightful combination.

He didn't know who pulled away. Maybe it was her, or maybe it was him, or maybe it was both of them, but the next thing he knew, his forehead was leaning against hers, his blue eyes staring into her green ones. Her breath was warm on his face, her hands still on his neck.

"Merry Christmas Cha-"

"Prince James! Prince James!" The loud shout of King George's men, a few meters away, made him jump. Charming groaned as he pulled away from Snow, seeing a flash of disappointment flash across her face.

"They noticed I've gone," he mumbled, shaking his head. "Typical."

"Well, you do have a ball to go to, Prince _James," _Snow replied, giving him a soft smile.

"Not yet, but Geor-Father probably wants help, as always."

"You better go then," Snow said to him, her eyes staring ahead of them; King George's men hadn't noticed them yet, but Charming knew it was only a matter of time before they did, and he didn't want them to find Snow; he was sure they would turn her in.

"Merry Christmas Snow," he said to her, his voice sounding quite awkward.

"Merry Christmas Charming, and thank you. I was.. cold."

"I knew it," he said with a grin.

And so he set off back to the Castle, his mind repeating the quick kiss with Snow over and over in his brain. As he trudged back, seeing posters celebrating the wedding of himself and Abigail in the new year, he couldn't help but want to puke. It was that moment that he finally admitted it to himself; he was in love with Bandit Snow White.

* * *

><p><em>An: Thank you for all of the reviews! It means so much to me! And thank you for those of you who have left prompts, please, keep leaving them! This is Christmas themed, so yay, happy belated Christmas to all of you! Oh, and this is set before the events in 7:15 am (: in my mind, after the kiss, Charming couldn't stop thinking about his love for Snow White, which lead to him writing the letter, and her arriving at the castle, only to be made by George to break his heart, blah blah blah. Anway, I hope you liked it!_


End file.
